


Changing the Game

by chiquislover25



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-02 19:01:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18817066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chiquislover25/pseuds/chiquislover25
Summary: He's not sure why he's been brought here, but the gods seem to want him to see the futures that may be.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I had begun to write this before this season started but never planned to publish this. I haven't finished it nor do I really know where this is going but I felt that posting something nice would help with the horrible episode we just experienced.

He's not entirely sure how he's going to tell Robert. After seeing his bastard son there is no doubt in his mind the "Baratheon" children were not sired by his friend.

The seed is strong.

Indeed, it is. No matter how the mother's looked the Baratheon line always had black hair and that young Smith was the living image of what his friend used to look like in his youth.

He had refused to ride back with Jory and decided to walk back to the Red Keep in an attempt to clear his mind. However, he is now beginning to regret his decision.

He's lost.

While in his thoughts he's strayed from the path that leads to the Red Keep and knows not how to return to it. He continues to wander around the streets of Flea Bottom when he hears a soft cry coming from a child.

As he makes his way towards the child, he sees that it is dressed in clothing much finer than those worn by the residents of Flea Bottom. His mind is so focused on the child before him that he doesn't notice the lack of foul stench that previously engulfed this part if Kings Landing or the way the streets and buildings have been changed.

"Hello little one," he speaks in the same tone he uses for all his children. The child looks up and he gasps at the beauty of the child. She has long brown hair full of curls and beautiful violet eyes that are swimming with tears.

He can't help but reach out to wipe the falling tears from her pale skin.

"Where are your Mother and Father?" he asks tenderly.

"They're back home. I wasn't supposed to wander off by myself but I didn't listen and now I can't get home because I hurt my foot," she says in the sweetest voice he's heard since his girls were younger.

He takes a quick look at the child's foot and sees her ankle swollen and a bruised. She must have hurt it seriously by the looks of it.

"I'm trying to get to the Red Keep but got lost. What if I take you there and have the Maester look at your foot and we can send for your mother and father from there?"

This seems to brighten the child's demeanor and she quickly nods.

"Is it alright if I carry you?"

She once again nods and he gently lifts her into his arms.

"Now do you know which way the Red Keep is?"

She nods and starts pointing. As they're walking the girl seems fascinated by the small direwolf he has on his collar but does not say anything.

"You're awfully quiet, little one," he mentions as he begins to see the gates of the Red Keep.

"Mama and Papa told me not to talk to strangers," she says.

"That is wise advice. But I'm sure you're also not supposed to trust them either," he says laughing at the girl's logic.

"I'm not but Papa did tell me we can trust our bannermen from Winterfell," she says touching his direwolf sigil.

The phrasing of that confuses him as does her knowledge of the sigils of the noble houses. But before he can ask, they arrive before the gates which are surprisingly closed. He sees archers and strange foreign men manning the gates and upon seeing him point the arrows towards him.

"PUT HER DOWN!" one of the men yells towards him.

"Her foot is hurt she cannot stand on her own. I've brought her here so the Maester can see to her," he answers back confused by their reactions and lack of recognition. He hopes they will put their weapons down but they do not.

"I SAID PUT HER DOWN AND STEP AWAY!" the same man yells again.

"What is going on?!" he hears a familiar voice say and he sees the youngest Lannister arrive. This confuses him even more since the man should be in the North at the Wall.

"My Lord, there is a man at the gates who has her and refuses to put her down," the man explains to the dwarf.

The dwarf then turns to look down at him and turns as white as snow. His face is of awe and terror upon seeing him and struggles to say anything.

"Let them in," he mutters and the gates are opened.

He is met by the heir to Casterly Rock and watches the clear disbelief on his features. But he also notices an ugly scar across his face that was not there at his visit to Winterfell and the facial hair that was also not on his previous cleanshaven face.

"Lord Stark?" he questions.

"Aye, Lord Tyrion. I'm surprised to see you here, I expected you to be at the Wall," he answers.

"You should be under Winterfell," Tyrion says.

"Under Winterfell?" he starts to ask but the little girl in his arms speaks.

"Are Mama and Papa mad?" she squeaks, and all the attention of the golden lion turns to her.

"They're more worried than anything. Your brothers almost went searching for you, they were so scared," Tyrion says in the softest voice he's heard from the dwarf.

"I was trying to come back but my foot got twisted," she answers, seeming ashamed of her actions.

"It's alright they'll just be very very glad to see you're safe," he says looking at him once again. "But upon seeing who's brought you back, they might need a drink as desperately as I do right now."

"Mama said no more drinking, Uncle Tyrion," she giggles.

"Alas she did but I think it's acceptable to have one when I'm seeing the dead again," he says.

The dead? Again?

"Why don't we go let your parents know you've been found, they should be in the throne room, either pacing or preparing to storm Kings Landing," Tyrion offers.

"Yes please," the little girl begs.

"Very well," Tyrion turns to one of the guards. "Would you mind taking the Princess off the Lord's hands and carrying her to the Great Hall. We'll walk right behind you as to not cause the King a greater shock than what he's about to receive."

"Of course my Lord," the guard says, gently taking the little girl from his arms and walking towards the Great Hall.

Princess? That's not Myrcella.

"You look confused Lord Stark," Tyrion states as he begins walking after the guard and he follows as well.

"Aye. You just called that girl "the Princess" and I know that child is not your niece. You also keep mentioning the dead," Ned begins to list off.

He watches as the younger man sighs and lets his shoulders sag.

"Tell me, Lord Stark, what is the last thing you remember? Before finding the Princess," Tyrion asks.

"I was in Flea Bottom looking for a young Smith, he turned out to be…" he catches himself worried about the reaction the Lannister might have upon hearing about Robert's bastard.

"You found Gendry, son of Robert Baratheon," Tyrion states recognizing that story.

"You know?" and the dwarf once again sighs.

"Yes, I do. Lord Stark, I know this is going to be hard to believe but the events you are recalling happened over ten years ago," Tyrion reveals.

"What?! That's not possible…"

"It is. If anything you being here is not possible Lord Stark. You should be in the crypts of Winterfell with the remains of your family, you were the first of the Starks to fall." Tyrion speaks.

I'm dead? The first…

"Who else of my family has died?"

There is a long pause before the Lannister answers.

"That's something our King would be better at telling you," Tyrion states.

"What can Robert say that you can't?"

"Robert's no longer King. Lord Stark."

Robert's dead.

"Then Joffrey's King," he whispers in dread.

"No. No Baratheon rules the Iron Throne," he speaks. "Well… my nephews weren't really Baratheon, were they? And no, no Lannister rules either."

"Then who?" he asks as they arrive at the great hall.

"You'll soon see," he says a soft smile on his features as the door of the Great Hall open.

"I rode into battle twice while I was carrying her there is no way you are convincing me that I cannot mount a horse right now and go through Kings Landing looking for my daughter," he hears a women's voice declare.

"Your Grace, I'm sure His Grace did not mean that you physically couldn't do it. It wouldn't be safe for you or the child you now carry to go into Kings Landing without your guards, it would just bring him more worry. Isn't that right?" he hears another woman's voice say, but before "his Grace" can answer the guard carrying the Princess speaks.

"My King, My Queen, she's been found," the guard says.

"Mama, Papa," the princess begins to cry and he is finally able to see the girl's parents as they turn towards the guard and the sight leaves him breathless.

The girl's mother is a Targaryen, there is no denying it. The woman has the Targaryen platinum hair and violet eyes, which he can now see the little girl got from her.

This must be Daenerys Targaryen, daughter of the Mad King, the girl his best friend had sent assassins to kill. He's glad to see that the assassins failed in killing the girl but now wonders if he caused his friend's death by letting her live.

But at her side is not the Targaryen he expected to see. Instead of the silver locks of Viserys Targaryen, he sees the dark pulled back curls of the boy he last saw on the King's Road, who he swore he would share knowledge of his mother too, knowing that he would have taken his vows already.

His nephew Aegon Targaryen.

No, not his nephew, to him he had always been his son Jon. But this man standing before him did not look like the young boy he let go to the wall. Instead, he looked older, battle-hardened, scars littering his face.

"Thank the gods," he hears his son's Northern voice sigh in relief as he quickly moves to take the princess into his arms.

"Papa," the little girl buries herself into her father's chest and her father, in turn, holds her closer and walks towards his wife who is waiting at the bottom of the steps that once held the Iron Throne.

"Lyanna," the queen sighs in relief as Jon brings their daughter closer to her.

"Mama," she cries, hugging her mother who begins speaking sweet nothings to the little girl.

Lyanna… so he does know the truth.

Instead of the dread, he assumed he would feel at the truth being revealed, a form of happiness goes through him as he sees his son surrounded by the love that he was denied at Winterfell. As much as he tried to show him, love, he knew the effect Catelyn had on Jon's life and how much his life had isolated him.

But now he sees him with a family of his own, the smile upon his face was one he had never seen before and the affection he is shown by both his wife and child make that reveal worth it.

As this small reunion occurs, he can't help but think of his own children and if 10 years have passed as Lord Tyrion stated, what happened to them.

"Where was she?" Jon's voice speaks out with a regality that his voice never had before.

"This man next to Lord Tyrion found her in Flea Bottom, your Grace. He said she had hurt her foot," the guard announces and both parents look up away from their daughter.

As he gazes upon his son's face, he sees recognition in his eyes followed by confusion than anger.

"Missandei, please take Lyanna to the Maester. Have him look at her foot," he orders with strength and confidence.

"At once, Your Grace," the woman, Missandei answers with a slight bow. She walks towards the king and queen and takes the girl from her father. The queen places a kiss on her daughter's brow before Jon's face once again softens as he addresses his daughter.

"Your mother and I will come to you as soon as we settle things here, my little dragonwolf," he says sweetly and she nods.

"Can Ghost come with me?" she asks timidly.

"Of course he can, he won't leave your side any time soon," Jon answers as suddenly behind the two thrones the direwolf he remembers as a pup appears and follows the princess out.

Once she is out of the hall his son's demeanor once again hardens.

"I want everyone out except the Lord Hand and my daughter's rescuer," he orders and all the guards leave at once.

"Jon what is going on?" the Queen asks once the hall is empty.

"That's what I wish to know my Queen," he answers.

"Lord Tyrion would you care to explain what has my husband in such a mood towards this man," the Queen asks.

"Your Grace, I'm not exactly sure what's going on. When I arrived at the gate this man stood there holding your daughter. When I first saw him I thought I was seeing a ghost or perhaps the dead had returned," the Lord says and he sees the fear in both monarchs eyes at the mention of the dead. "But upon closer inspection and conversation he seems to be the person he appears to be."

"And who may that be?" she asks.

"Lord Eddard Stark, former Lord of Winterfell, Warden of the North and Lord Hand of the Usurper Robert Baratheon," his son answers with disdain, "but that can't be right for Lord Stark died here in Kings Landing. Beheaded by his own sword as both his daughters watched in horror."

Beheaded… Sansa…Arya…

"Yes that is what happened Your Grace but Lord Stark here claims that his last memory is going to Flea Bottom to find Lord Gendry and only a select few know of this," Lord Tyrion speaks.

"Jon…" he finally decides to speak and he watches as his son tenses at the sound of his voice. "On the King's Road, I made a promise to you, before we went our separate ways."

"Aye, you did. A promise of knowledge that would have changed my life but it was something that you took to the grave, My Lord," Jon answers.

He has yet to call me father…

"That was never my intention," he tries to defend.

"No, your intention was to let me give up a life I had no idea I had a claim to. To swear away any opportunity of happiness that I had been denied my entire life. To die among rapists and murderers on that godforsaken wall. That was your intention Lord Stark," his son calls out and he can't help but grimace at the accusation.

"Jon…" he starts.

"Jon," his son's wife interrupts and Jon's features soften upon looking at her. "Perhaps we need to cool our heads. Lord Stark did many things wrong, but he kept you alive," he watches as she places her hand upon Jon's heart and his son takes a shuddering breath. "No matter what happened at the wall you're here with me now," a quick glance towards Lord Tyrion and he sees a sadness in the Lord's face at the mention of the wall.

What happened to Jon there?

"Now he has brought our daughter back to us and for that, we should be thankful. Our family is safe," she says guiding Jon's hand towards her swollen abdomen and calmness seems to envelop his son.

"Aye," he says, caressing where their child grows before turning to face Lord Tyrion and himself. "Lord Tyrion, our guests from the Storm's End, Winterfell and Casterly Rock should be arriving soon correct?"

"Yes, my King, a day's ride at the most," Tyrion confirms.

"Make sure they come to see me as soon as they arrive so I can prepare them for what they are about to see. And please have rooms prepared for Lord…" he takes a deep settling breath, "for my uncle."

"Of course your Grace," Tyrion says, a cheerfulness in Jon's change in demeanor towards him.

"Uncle," Jon says drawing his attention, "I know there is much to talk about, many questions you may have and you are free to ask Tyrion and myself whatever you wish but right now I must accompany my wife see our daughter."

It hurts to hear him call me uncle but it is better than the coldness of Lord Stark.

"Of course, Jon," he accepts.

Jon nods and gently offers his wife his arm to guide her out of the Great Hall and to their daughter.

Once they are gone, he hears Lord Tyrion take a deep breath.

"That is the most Targaryen I have seen him since the war," he states before turning to look at him. "Come, Lord Stark, there are ten years you must learn about and I know much alcohol is going to be necessary."

As dread fills his being, he follows the Hand of the King towards knowledge he wished he never received.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next chapter. I'm not sure when the next one will come out but I hope you enjoy this!

_They’re dead… his sons, his wife, his brother…they’re all dead_

Ten years full of war, betrayal, death…

He and Lord Tyrion had finished many kegs of ale by the end of his tale and nothing dulls the ache in his chest. No amount of wine or Northern ale would ever take away the pain he feels at this news.

_What did I do? Sansa…Arya… Jon…Gods, no wonder Jon hated him. He sent his son to his death at the wall._

Lord Tyrion had left him alone after he finished his tale to process everything, but he was incapable of doing so. Gods, he didn’t even know everything yet, Lord Tyrion said his children had the right to tell the details of their own stories.

He’s not sure what time it is when he hears a knock at his door.

“Enter,” he slurs out and he sees his son walk into the room dressed down seeming to be ready for sleep.

He’s not sure what his son must have seen but he quickly moves towards his side and guides him to his bed.

“You must rest Uncle. Keeping up with Lord Tyrion is a nearly impossible task and you seem to have failed,” he says.

“You… you called me Uncle again…” he slurs as he’s lowered onto the bed.

“Aye I did,” Jon says tensely as he begins to tug on his boots.

The emotions of the day hit him at once when he catches a glimpse of a scar on his son’s chest through a small opening in his tunic.

_He was killed at the Wall, Lord Stark…_

“I'm sorry…. I'm so sorry my boy,” he sobs out, crying for his son, for his daughters, for his family, for the promise to his sister he failed to keep.  “I failed you… I failed your mother… Gods, Lyanna I failed our boy.”

He’s too far gone in despair and in his drinks that he misses the sympathy in his son’s face as he continues to remove his leathers.

“Robb… Rickon… Catelyn… Benjen…” he sobs out their names as the darkness begins to overtake him.

“I know… I know, Father,” he believes to hear Jon’s voice say as everything goes black.

He awakes with his head pounding. hoping that everything was just a dream and he would wake in the Hand's quarters. But upon opening his eyes he sees that it isn’t so. Everything he recalls from last night is true.

Before he can let his grief swallow him a knock comes from his door followed by the woman who was in the throne room with Jon and his wife.

“Hello Lord Stark, my name is Missandei, one of the queen’s closest advisors,” she introduces herself as she walks in. “The Queen asked me to check on you this morning and to give you a fresh change of clothing.”

“Thank you, Missandei,” he says, a roughness in his voice caused by his sobs the night before, as he receives the clothing.

“Her Grace wishes to know if you’d be willing to breakfast with her in her solar,” she asks as he stands to change.

“Just her Grace?” he asks

“Yes, it is King Aegon's turn to listen to the people’s plights today,” Missandei explains to him. She must have seen his confusion at her phrasing for she clarifies. “King Aegon and Queen Daenerys rule as equals. They share the duties of the crown and carry the burdens together as well."

_That explains the two thrones._

“Yes, I will join her Grace,” he agrees.

“Very well, Lord Stark. A guard will lead you to the Queen’s solar when you are ready,” she explains before walking out of the room.

He quickly changes his clothing feeling strange in the southern clothes he was presented. Upon stepping out of the room he finds a guard waiting, who begins to walk without addressing him. He’s surprised to see that the Queen’s solar is the same one Robert had used as his own, the King’s room. With a knock on the door, he is ushered in.

He sees his new daughter sitting at a table laughing at the antics of the young princess he rescued.

The Queen looks up once she hears his approach but unlike her son the smile does not fall from her face upon seeing him. Instead, it seems to get wider.

“Good morning Lord Stark, I apologize for the southern clothing but not many dress in northern garb in the capital and my husband is a tad smaller than you,” she explains

“There’s nothing to apologize for, Your Grace. I’m grateful for clothing nevertheless,” he says.

The Queen gives him a small nod as she turns towards her daughter, who seems to be holding back her enthusiasm for something.

“Lyanna, why don’t you great our guest?” the Queen points out and the little girl quickly turns to happily do as she was told.

“Good morning, Grandfather!” she exclaims.

_Grandfather…_

That term brings him up short. Yes, one day he expected to be called by that title but after last night and the coldness he received from Jon, he didn’t expect to ever be called that by his children.

But here is this beautiful little girl looking at him with such love that it is only found in a child’s innocence.

“Good morning, Lya,” he manages to say though the knot in his throat.

“Lyanna, why don’t you go with Missandei? I have to talk to your grandfather as we break our fast,” the Queen explains and without a word of argument agrees. The Queen’s advisor takes the girl and leaves them alone.  The Queen gestures towards the open seat in front of her and he sits.

“Her namesake wouldn’t have left the room without some explanation as to why she was being forced to leave,” he points out and a knowing smile appears on the Queen’s face.

“Trust me, Lord Stark, if the tales are anything to go by she is just like her namesake. Before you arrived I had to give her a whole explanation as to why I had to speak to her grandfather alone,” she says with a soft giggle as she takes a sip of tea.

_There’s that word again, Grandfather._

She seems to notice his reaction to that title.

“No matter how my husband addresses you at the moment you were and still are his father. My brother may have sired him but you raised him into the honorable Northern fool I fell in love with,” she says reaching across the table to take hold of his hand and he smiles back at her.

“Thank you, Your Grace,” he answers back and she shakes her head.

“No, thank you, Lord Stark. You kept Jon alive and gave him a home. That's more than anyone else would have done even with family. I just wish for you to give him some time. He never expected to see you again and he's processing all these emotions he had buried a while ago.”

A servant then enters the room bringing in their food.  The queen sits back in her seat and speaks to the servant in a different language.  As the servant leaves, he watches as the queen rubs circles against her abdomen.

“How long now?” he asks, gesturing towards her abdomen.

“Three more moons. This little one moves less than Lyanna did but when he does…” she says with a slight giggle and he can’t help but smile.

They eat in comfortably as she begins to tell him about her life and how she came to meet Jon. He can’t help but be in awe at all the accomplishments this young woman has.

Suddenly there’s a knock at the door and a soldier, Unsullied he recalls, walks in.

“My Queen, the guests from Winterfell, Storms End, and Casterly Rock have arrived,” he announces and she gives him a short nod before the soldier turns around and leaves.

“My Lord, are you ready to see the rest of your family?” she asks, standing up before him.

“I am, Your Grace.”  


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Sorry, my inspiration has been mostly in my other story, My Queen, but I finally managed to do this chapter. I really hope you all enjoy this and it brings you all joy during the next 24 hours. Thank you all for reading!

In the Throne room, the Hand of their Majesties stands to the King’s side as he listens to a teacher of one of the schools that had been opened in Flea Bottom. There was a need for more learning supplies and was asking the crown for more funds. He tries to truly pay attention to what is going on but his mind turns to the guest that appeared yesterday outside the walls.

When he saw the man, whose death caused the War of the Five Kings standing in front of the gates holding the heir to the Iron Throne he thought he had surely gone mad. Or he had finally drunk himself to the point of hallucinations.

But Ned Stark is here now, and he knows it's going to cause a lot of tension between everyone. The King himself was having a hard time controlling his emotions even now as he’s attending to his duties.

 “Please, Your Grace. The children truly need this,” the teacher speaks, and Jon does not answer, seeming to be elsewhere in his mind. With a slight throat clearing, he seems to get his attention again and Jon correctly answers the man before them.

“Of course,” the King speaks. “The crown’s priority is the children of the realm, their well-being, and their livelihood. I will speak with the Master of Coin and see what can be spared to help the children of Flea Bottom even more.”

Like always, the Lord Hand’s day brightens as he sees the happiness that their Majesties give to their people.

“Oh, thank you, your Grace,” the man bows in gratitude and one of the Unsullied guides him out of the throne room.

He watches as his Majesty’s mind once again turns to another place.

“Do you wish to end the petitions early today? You seem completely distracted,” he points out and the King sighs deeply.

“Aye, I do. I hate doing so because it’s the time we can truly listen to what the people need, but my mind cannot focus on anything now,” Jon answers back.

Tyrion gives the signal to another soldier and the rest of the people are told to come back another day. Jon immediately takes off his crown and one of the servants takes it for safe keeping.

“You’re brooding extra hard today,” he points out as Jon drops his head into his hands. “Did you go talk to your uncle yesterday?” and another sigh leaves Jon’s body.

“Not really. You left him deep in his cups and a complete mess, Tyrion, no real talking could take place,” Jon points out and he can’t help but grimace a bit.

“I know I did. I thought it would help him with the pain of listening to everything that’s occurred to have some ale in his system, I never really took into account how much he would actually able to handle,” he tries to defend himself.

The King chuckles and stands from the throne.

“You forget Lord Tyrion that not all of us are able to keep up with you in cups,” Jon points out and he can’t help but smile.

“Yes you are right, you and Tormund Giantsbane have been the closest to matching me in drinking,” he admits but only causes his Grace to laugh even more.

“I’m pretty sure Tormund beat you the last time you were in Winterfell,” Jon says through his laughter.

“Well, he is quite bigger than me,” he attempts to hide the slight blush but if Jon’s laughter is anything to go by he’s failed to do so.

“Papa!” a little voice interrupts his embarrassment and both he and the King turn to see a little boy waddling towards him, his hand being held by his lady wife.

“My boy you’re walking!” he exclaims quickly moving towards his family as his wife picks up their son and waits for him to reach them.

“He is.  He began a few days ago, wanted to surprise his papa when we got to Kings Landing” his wife points out as she bends down to place a kiss on his lips and give him an embrace.  

“My darling, how I’ve missed you,” he admits as he lets go and then truly takes in his son. “My goodness he’s grown, he’s going to be taller than me soon,” he points out.

“He’s only half your size, he still has a ways to go,” she says looking at their little boy before turning her gaze to His Grace. “Your Grace,” she says trying to keep a straight face before failing miserably and falling into laughter. Jon joins her in laughter as he walks over to embrace her.

“Hello Sansa,” Jon says to his sister as he lets her go.

“Hello, Jon,” she answers back.

“Papa!” his little boy repeats holding his arms out grasping towards him.

“I see my nephew is eager for you to hold him, Lord Tyrion,” Jon says.

“Well some normalcy would be great considering what’s happened in the past day,” he says, carefully receiving his son.

“What’s happened?” Sansa asks, picking up on what he said and both he and the King tense up.

“Something happened yesterday, but I think it would be best if both Bran and Arya are here before we speak of it,” Jon says trying to deflect but to their misfortune, the other two Starks with their significant others walk into the throne room at that moment.  

“Why do you need to wait for us?” the younger of the Stark sisters ask as they walk towards them.

He looks to his King to see what he wishes to do and he sees him looking at the Lord of Winterfell.

“Did you know?” the King asks his sibling but the young lord only shakes his head.

“Not until yesterday.”

“What is going on Jon?” Sansa asks.

“Yesterday Lyanna got out of the Keep, we couldn’t find her,” Jon begins to explain to his siblings and their partners. “Dany and I were about to go looking for her throughout Kings Landing, even the dragons were getting ready to start their search.”

He can see that the fear of not finding his child still affects Jon and sees the worry in the aunts of the princess. He decides to intercede to help his King with the explanation.

“We closed the entrances of the Keep and then there was a commotion at one of the gates. I went to go see what was wrong and a man that we all thought dead was holding the princess asking for entrance,” he explains.

“Who was it?” Arya asks and its Bran who answers.

“Our father, Eddard Stark.”

Everyone else besides those who knew stares at the boy in disbelief.

“That’s impossible,” his wife says, before turning to look at him. “Tyrion my father is dead.”

He takes a deep breath and sighs before taking his wife’s hand.

“I saw him, I talked with him, I got him drunk. I wish I could tell you that Bran is lying but he’s not my dear. I don’t know why and I don’t know how but your father is alive and is here at the Red Keep.”

He watches his wife sway a bit and not for the first time does he curse his height as he’s unable to hold her up. Gendry thankfully steps forward to keep her up.

“Why is he here Bran?” Jon asks as soon as Sansa settles down, but there’s a tightness in his voice.

“To see things that have yet to happen, to see how simple choices change the future, and hopefully change the future for the better,” he says.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.... one of the things I hate most about my writing as that no matter how much I try to write in chronological order I sometimes can't. I know you all were waiting for the reunion but I'm still working on it. After the finale (which I still refuse to watch) this chapter that I had been playing around with came fully out and I had to write it. When I finally finish the next chapters I'll make sure to put them all in the correct order to not confuse you all more. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy.

“You asked to see me Bran?” he asks, walking into the Godswood where his son spends most of his day.

“I did. Meera would you mind leaving us?” Bran asks as he holds his wife’s hand.

“Are you sure you should show him these things, Bran? It may be too much,” Meera voices her concern before Bran looks at her.

“He has to see. He has to see how much one decision changes things,” Bran explains.

“But Jon and Daenerys barely…”

“But they did,” he places a soft kiss on the back of her hand. “He can handle it, just as they did,” he says and Meera simply nods before leaving them alone.

He doesn’t fully understand what his son is now or what he can do. But he’s the only one of his children he still hasn’t spoken to alone.

_Well, not the only one._

Jon still refused to talk to him. He would exchange pleasantries and would put up a front when in the company of other siblings but whenever he would attempt to talk to him, he would claim to have duties to attend to or simply walk away.

_“My husband is stubborn, Lord Stark,” he remembers the Queen saying as they took a small walk around the gardens. “He suffered a lot in his life and the knowledge of who he truly was…”_

_A haunted look came across the woman’s face before she seemed to shake off some unknown demons._

_“Give him time, the truth was not something he easily accepted.”_

His thoughts return to the present as his youngest remaining child sits there patiently, seeming to know where his thoughts just were.

“Daenerys was right, the knowledge of Jon’s identity was what decided the fate of the realm,” Bran admits.

“What do you mean?” he asks.

“One decision can change everything and there’s a certain moment in time where one decision changed the realm completely,” Bran says in a more monotone voice than he’s heard

He feels a pull towards his son and without thinking takes his hand.

Around him everything changes, he is no longer in the Godswood but is instead standing in dark room lit only by the fire and a few candles.

Winterfell.

If what his children have told him is true, then he would never see these walls again. Looking around he recognizes it as Robb’s old room but is surprised to see a slightly younger Jon sitting on the bed seeming to be meditating on something. He turns to look for Bran and sees him standing on the other end of the room.

“Bran? You’re…” he tries to speak, and he sees Bran smirk.

“In here I can stand,” his points out.

“Where is here?” he asks.

“I wish I could explain but the longer we stay, the harder it will be for us to return,” Bran explains. “I just need you to watch this moment. Here is where the fate of the realm was decided.”

Before he can ask any questions, he sees the Queen enter the room, closing the door behind her.

_“Are you drunk?” he watches her ask Jon as he stumbles getting up._

_“No,” he answers but with an incredulous look from the queen he responds, “maybe a little.”_

They both walk closer to each other

_“I didn’t know Ser Jorah well, but I know this. If he could have chosen a way to die it would have been protecting you,” Jon answers and the queen moves closer to him._

_“He loved me,” she states and he watches as Jon simply nods._

He recalls the queen telling him how Ser Jorah had been her most loyal companion, that despite the times he betrayed her, he always came back and gave his life to save hers during the battle against the dead.

_“And I couldn’t love him back, not the way he wanted,” the queen says, standing right in front of Jon, “not the way I love you.”_

He watches as Jon pulls her towards him and he has the urge to look away. However, a force he doesn’t understand refuses to let him remove his gaze.

_“Is that alright?” he hears a twinge a fear in her voice as Jon kisses her._

The kiss keeps building and he tries to speak to Bran when suddenly everything seems to stop.

“Bran maybe we shouldn’t be watching this,” he tries arguing to his son, but he simply shakes his head.

“What Jon does next and the conversation that follows would have changed everything. In our present, this continued, and Daenerys would have told him about expecting Lyanna. But here things will go differently, and the result would be vastly different than what you know,” Bran explains.

The two monarchs begin to move but Jon pulls away. He watches the hurt in the queen’s face as Jon removes himself from her and how her violet eyes fill with tears as he moves away.

_“I wish you’d never told me. If I didn’t know I’d be happy right now,” her voice devoid of emotion as she sits near the fireplace. “Tonight I did for a while…”_

Ned can’t believe how broken this young woman looks and how confused his son seems to be. He listens and watches how they argue, how their relationship collapses before his eyes, he watches how this strong woman he had met at Kings Landing begs his son not to share his identity.

The sight changes and he sees all his children at the Winterfell Godswood.

_“You need to swear,” Jon says to his sisters._

_“I swear it,” Arya quickly answers, and he watches as his oldest daughter reluctantly agrees._

_“Tell them,” Jon orders a version of Bran, who seems to be able to him._

He feels dizzy as the sight changes again to Sansa and Tyrion talking at the ramparts of Winterfell and his daughter breaking her vow.

Again, it changes and from the shores of what he assumes is Dragonstone, he watches as one of the magnificent beasts he met recently is killed.

The scene changes, and he watches as the Mountain kills the innocent Missandei upon the walls of Kings Landing.

Once more the scene changes and he’s inside another room. He sees his daughter by marriage completely distraught and broken as his son walks in.  

“Bran why are you showing me this?” he asks as he watches the two people who he had seen be so in love and with a family, break all bridges between them.

“Because I needed you to see how close we were to this, how Jon’s acceptance of his identity determined what happened in the Seven Kingdoms. He needs to accept who he is or what comes next will happen,” Bran explains.

He turns and watches as his son is unable to pick up on the need of his love and how upon a second rejection she completely shuts off.

Instead of the warm loving queen he has gotten to know, he sees a cold woman with nothing left to lose in the world.

_“Let it be fear then,” she vows._

Dread hits him at this, especially when he sees the look of sadness on his son’s face.

“How bad is it Bran?” he asks, knowing that the woman he just saw would not hold back her fury. But his son’s features just confirm the worst.

The scene moves one last time and he’s in the destroyed Red Keep. Ashes are everywhere and he knows that the Queen he had heard so much about during his time at Kings Landing had not spared anyone or anything.

He can’t hear what she and Jon are saying but she is in his embrace. He can see the same love gaze in her face that he’s seen every time she looks upon his son. As Jon leans in to kiss her, he sees him reaching for a dagger.

“No!” he screams out trying to move to stop this horror from happening.

But the same force that refused to let him move his gaze now refuses to let him intervene.

It’s in her heart.

He feels tears fall down his cheek as he watches his son kill the love of his life. He watches how her face shows the hurt and betrayal she’s feeling. As her life begins to leave her, she takes Jon’s hand and places it upon the swell where their child had been growing.

His son, who had seemed close to breaking before, shatters as he realizes what he held in his hand, what the queen had kept from him, what exactly he had just murdered. Jon looks into Daenerys’s eyes begging her to deny it but instead, she looks at him with sadness as her eyes close and she takes her final breath.  A gut-wrenching scream comes from Jon as he cradles the body of the woman he loves and the mother of his unborn child.

He mirrors his son as he too sinks to the ground crying for what he just saw.

He cried for his son, who had now lost everything by his own hand.

He cried for his daughter, who had only begged for love and understanding and instead got betrayal.

He cried for the little girl who had stolen his heart since he found her in the streets of Flea Bottom, that never got the chance to live.

If he had told Jon the truth about who he was, had taught him to accept it, this future wouldn’t be a possibility.

He feels someone place a hand on his shoulder and instead of seeing Bran as he expected he sees Jon. Not the one who just killed the woman he loves and his child, but the one who he has seen showing unconditional love to the two most important people in his life.

But Jon’s not looking at him, he’s looking at his other self. His face shows no emotions as he watches his other self cry over his beloved’s body or even when the dragon appears to mourn for its mother and burn the Iron Throne.

_He’s seen this,_ he remembers. Meera had mentioned both Jon and Daenerys seeing this before.

_How did they handle this?_

But tears fill Jon’s eyes and the way he gives his shoulder a squeeze of comfort show him that they didn’t. They were living with this knowledge and horror every single day.

And suddenly things began to be clear.  The way anytime a serious crime had been committed and Daenerys’s temper would rise, Jon would immediately rush to her side to calm her and then comfort her.  The way anytime Jon felt lost or felt upset how Daenerys’s would remind him she was at her side. The way they desperately held their daughter as if she would disappear at a moment’s notice. The haunted looks they would get and that would lead to them telling themselves how much they loved each other.

They feared to lose it all because they had seen it happen.

The vision begins to go away and they are once again in the Godswood.

He’s still on the ground, Jon’s hand still upon his shoulder and none of them move until he hears Jon’s voice say.

“I think its time we talk, Father.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't include the lines from the throne room because as I said before I refuse to watch that scene. My heart still can't/won't handle it.


End file.
